


Not your mommy

by AphrxditeDaughter



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Artist Feyre Archeron, Baby Archeron, Eventual Smut, F/M, Florist!Elain, Fluff, Modern Era, Multi POV, Mutual Pining, Nesta Archeron-centric, Soft Nesta Archeron, lawyer!Nesta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphrxditeDaughter/pseuds/AphrxditeDaughter
Summary: Nesta Archeron has never expected anything from her parents, not since the bankruptcy her family suffered when she was thirteen and not since her mother ran away from the dysfunctional family soon after.But when the woman shows up on her doorstep after twelve years with a baby, Nesta doesn't know what to do or how to feel.Least of all when Audrey Archeron disappears again, leaving Nesta legally in charge of the child.Knowing nothing about motherhood she returns to San Francisco after six years, ready to give that child as close to a family as possible.And perhaps the hardest road is the one that offers the best reward.
Relationships: Amren/Varian (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron/Azriel, Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Tamlin, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 29
Kudos: 71





	1. BEFORE

She remembered the tears, hot and wild, staining her childish face and blurring her reality.

She remembered the cries of her baby sister, who didn't comprehend what was going on.

She remembered her middle sister, wrapped around her waist and holding a crown of daisies in her hands.

So from that day on Nesta Archeron was not going to forget, she was not going to forgive and she was not going to allow herself to be that little girl again.


	2. Baby Archeron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thanks to everyone for giving this story a chance.  
> I would like to clarify that English is not my mother tongue, so if you see any mistakes feel free to let me know.  
> Also if anyone wants to read the original Spanish version let me know and I could upload it.  
> I hope you guys enjoy this!  
> Nesta is pretty OC in the story but at the same time she is not.

_1993_

The sun hadn't gone down when the woman entered the house.

The child had already left her younger sisters napping by that time, and had remained in the living room completing her homework in an attempt to not make noise in the room.

She'd been awaiting the movement of the clock on the wall to know when to wake them up, since their dad had called before the girls went to sleep and had promised to bring them Jack in the box for dinner. Her reasoning was that dinner came when the little needle moved to seven o'clock; and her father always arrived then too.

Dad had always been on time, punctual. 

But then the woman had returned, the clock still scrolling lazily and only marking that it was a quarter past five. 

Nesta gazed hopefully at the doorway hoping her mother would be alone to finally tell her about the spelling bee she had won two days before, an experience she hadn't been able to explain to her sisters because they were more concerned with playing tea party.

Audrey Archeron, however, was with a man who was not her husband, her hands on his shoulders, and Nesta was unable to tell where one began or the other ended.

Sorrow swept over the girl, who silently put her notebooks and colors together, listening to the desperate noises the two adults emitted as they entered the kitchen.

Given that she knew what would happen next, Nesta slipped upstairs.

* * *

_2010_

Nesta Archeron was genuinely tired of all the bullshit, as she watched the defense attorney go on and on. She just wanted to bash him and point out all the errors in his speech - God, that man was ruining his own client.

But there was a positive side to that because it meant the case was practically won, so luckily in a few hours she could be at her apartment drinking a glass of wine.

That sounded like an exciting plan for the evening.

She put on her mask as she watched the jury, the cold bitch face that made people run away as soon as they saw her. Nesta knew she was a good sight but, although she sometimes made a beeline for them, most of the time she couldn't keep her cool before throwing herself at their jugulars. 

Her hair was still pulled back delicately on top of her head in one of the usual crowns she liked to wear, every strand in place even after six hours of session.

Four hours later, when the judge handed down the sentence, Nesta couldn't help but feel pride fluttering in her chest. The case hadn't been the most complex at all but somehow she couldn't help but feel the sweetness of victory on the tip of her tongue like a sugar cube.

After all Nesta was one of the best at what she did.

_One more day, one step at a time_ , she told herself after closing everything with her client. 

She had earned a glass of wine and was even excited enough to think about a whole bottle while she walked to her car.

She dialed Elain's number before turning the car on, ready to spend a few minutes on her sister and catch the news in San Francisco. 

Even if they were five hours away it had been years since Nesta had decided to visit them, and almost eight months since they'd been able to take a getaway up to San Francisco for Nesta's birthday, they still talked on the phone once a week at least.

One beep.

Two beeps.

“Nesta!” Elain greeted enthusiastically, her soft voice rising several octaves. Nesta could hear the noise of chatter in the background, so she assumed her sisters would be at one of their get-togethers with friends. "How did the trial go?”

“Perpetua, you should have seen his face. How are you guys doing?”

Even though Elain admired her for her work, she knew it didn't make her feel completely comfortable talking about it. The girl was a ray of sunshine who exudes kindness and flowers, so Nesta didn't dare give her details of all the things people did to end up in court against her either.

Being the older sister meant that after all, to keep sharpening pieces away from the children.

“All right! Feyre is trying to make hotcakes.”

“Don't let her set the apartment on fire.”

“Oh no, I'm not letting her again.”

“Again? Elain…”

“It was nothing!” Feyre's voice shouted suddenly from the background, several guffaws following her “It was only a frying pan.”

She audibly sighed, watching the road in front of her. Her baby sister was a strange thing and Nesta had stopped attempting to tame or overprotect her as she had always done; no, Feyre Archeron was a force of nature who only ran away when someone locked her up.

“It's okay," Elain said. “Nothing was damaged, not even the fire alarm went off.”

She couldn't help but frown in the privacy of her car; the mask was getting heavier and heavier, and being away from her sisters meant she couldn't help but feel worried.

Even if she didn't show it often.

“You should place it closer. Do you want me to make any calls?”

“Nesta, you don't need to worry, I'm not going to let Feyre even set foot in the kitchen unsupervised.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

And she parked with a really bad feeling in her gut.

**-o-**

Nesta was on her third glass when she ran out of wine. 

Due to the trial and all the preparation that went with it, not to mention all the rest of her cases, she had completely forgotten that it was shopping week. So the cabinets in her kitchen had emptied alarmingly, although it wasn't as if they had had too much in the first place.

Moments like that, peaceful and quiet in the apartment, were totally strange so she couldn't help but think it was some karmic act of the universe suddenly going awry.

She tended to stay in her office for hours at a time, only to come home, take a bath and pass out during her four hours of sleep a day so it really wasn't as if she often remembered how much food she had at the apartment. 

The daily routine -even though it sent her into a constant downward spiral of moodiness- kept the nightmares from haunting her, and that was all that mattered every morning. 

She liked the routine by the way, the step-by-step plan. Knowing what to expect if she made a misstep, averaging every consequence as she averaged the dangers that would exist in any of her cases.

Methodical and sharp, Nesta Archeron had earned the associate position she held at the buffet with sweat and blood. 

Not for nothing was she the firm's youngest Senior Associate.

She sprawled, reaching away from her spot on the couch to grab the remote control for the television that sat on the coffee table. She turned off the tv before glancing at the clock.

It wasn't too late to make it unthinkable to go out.

The woman picked up her black purse from where she had left it when she arrived at the apartment, deciding that going to the grocery store a few blocks away was a much better idea than giving up drinking on her night of triumph, and Nesta definitely wouldn't mind grabbing quick snacks that would get her away from having to cook.

Nesta didn't deign to change out of her pajamas, but instead slipped into the largest coat in her closet and left the apartment without much thought.

The adventure didn't last long. 

In the supermarket she grabbed two bottles of wine, deciding that stockpiling one was a very good option, and enough Oreo's and Breadsticks packages that she wouldn't worry about it again for at least a few days.

Nesta needed to prepare two different speeches and plan the angle that was going to be used for the Torneys' case; she should maybe make a note to call Jannet to let her know that it would be best if there were no romantic interaction with anyone before court.

Nesta sighed and looked at the little posters in Grace Ave. The street was lonely, though the noise of the city remained a constant.

Maybe she should ask Helion for his opinion on Mrs. Westfield's case after all. God knew the man was a mess when it came to personal life, in which they were quite alike, but he was excellent at his job and deserved the respect of his position.

Even if Helion most of the time let her do what she wanted when it came to cases, knowing that Nesta on her own was capable of finding perfection.

But she was human and sometimes she needed to know she was doing it right.

Wasn't that just what her psychologist had been telling her for the past four years?

_It's not bad to need help._

Yet Nesta still was unable to talk about it.

A shiver ran through her, and almost by inertia she quickened her pace.

The silhouette in her doorway almost sent her vomiting with fear.

Until Nesta understood who it was; not just because it was clearly a female, adult silhouette, but because she could recognize every bone in that woman's body -every single feature- from the distance.

Then Nesta actually saw her, seated on the front stairs to her apartment building; her hair was loose and straight, a short fringe of bangs that didn't even reach her eyebrows. As beautiful as she had been when they had last met a year before, and her blue eyes were as lifeless as they had been for many years prior.

After all, it was only a ghost of the woman she'd known growing up; the ghost of a mother who'd pushed her to read and write, to help Elain walk, who'd taught her to bottle-feed Feyre so she could go off and fuck some stranger. 

The rage became a knot in her stomach, as she clenched the paper bag to her breast and fought to control herself.

There were times when Nesta Archeron wished she could explode, destroy the lengths of life around her and lock herself away somewhere where nobody could ever touch her feelings. 

A place where no one would be able to trick her and manipulate her.

Still she was familiar with the routine with the woman in front of her.

As soon as she saw her coming Audrey stood up. Brown blonde hair, like glossy and liquid caramel, floated behind her because of the sudden movement.

But Nesta knew that it wasn't a social visit because they never were.

Her mother had always come back for money, and Nesta would rather be the one to throw a few dollars on her head instead of her little sisters. Nesta knew what it was like to hold hope in your grasp and have it suddenly taken away from you, she'd lived with it since she was eighteen.

Lying to them to protect them was not a sin, it was a necessary evil; she convinced herself that eventually she would tell, she would tell them how many times the woman had returned, too intoxicated to remember she had two more daughters living out there back in their hometown.

“Audrey" Nesta said, clicking her tongue in disgust at the sight of the woman. Hating how much they looked alike.

Almost realizing how much she hated being the spitting image of misery.

Nesta hated that her sisters recalled loving eyes and would never know the truth of the monster which lived in that soft skin.

Yet she couldn't take that away from them, to impart a pain which she herself didn't quite know how to handle. Couldn't do that to them, never to them.

“Nesta.”

“Are you in debt again? I told you it was the last time that I-

“No, it's not that" Audrey seemed lucid enough to look at her oldest daughter with the coldness that Nesta herself was so fond of possessing. The iron shell surrounding her seemed to stand like an impenetrable fortress. "We need a place to stay tonight, just tonight."

“No-

“Nesta... 

She looked at her mother, begging her. And Nesta wanted to cry out at that point, in anger.

Self-hating for not being able to say no.

“You're not bringing any shit into my apartment, or anyone else," she said. “You're not touching a single one of my things. You sleep. You eat. And you disappear again.”

Nesta knew the woman would do it even without her having to tell it.

The first few times, when Nesta was studying at the university and her mother showed up, she tried to patch up her broken wings again and again. 

Thinking that it was a good sign.

Thinking that she would save her mother.

The woman always came with empty stories, experiences that should have made her older child empathetic but it never happened. 

And when Audrey left she would tear her daughter apart again, even though Nesta knew what would happen.

The woman moved purposefully, revealing a baby bassinet placed on the stairs. White and dark brown, with a small creature wrapped in blankets sleeping in it.

“What?”

“His name is Atticus.”

And that was a blow to Nesta, a hard and direct one.

Atticus. She practically saw red, as fury built up and piled up inside her.

But Nesta didn't deign to look at him, or think what it meant, she dodged the bassinet and opened the door to the building.

By the time Nesta's head hit the pillow that night she could barely hold back the tears of rage.

**-o-o-**

Nesta woke up alarmed at about seven twenty in the morning. The hangover from the wine she had drunk the night before being just a twinge in her head.

But it wasn't her alarm, set strategically to go off at ten o'clock, that had woken her. 

It was the crying of a baby that made her jump out of bed with pure instinct, her body moving before Nesta could even understand what she was doing or where she was running to.

A thunderous noise came from the bassinet halfway across the room, placed on the floor at the foot of the white chesterfield sofa. 

"Audrey, hush the baby."

Nothing.

She approached the toddler, finding the bag she'd seen Audrey with the night before sitting on the coffee table and a stack of papers next to it.

Nesta had an IQ of 120 but no idea what the scene meant at first; and she stood static as the child whimpered, wringing her heart mercilessly without even knowing it.

For the first time she got close enough to see his features childish and hard from crying, tears pooling at the edges of his eyes. 

Atticus, small and flushed.

"Shh" Nesta murmured as she held him in her arms, tucked him against her chest so he would feel protected and stop crying.

_He might be hungry_ , she reasoned.

Leaning over to look for the bottle in the bag, her eyes sweeping over the papers and lingering on them.

A note: "I’m sorry, Nesta."

And Nesta knew from that note alone that she was screwed.


	3. Atticus, Helion, and the mess of Nesta's days.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week later, Nesta gives Atticus a bath and chats with her boss. Someone makes her a proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! You can see that i get very excited with this story haha.  
> Im going to be updating this once a week (maybe twice) and im going to said now that this is slow burn like really slow.  
> Enjoy! Thanks for the comments and kudos <3

_1991._

Nesta Archeron never had a crush on a specific cartoon or actor, nor was she even generally interested in the children at her school. 

She was in love with Atticus Finch, the father of two who conscientiously defended an innocent in the book and movie of " _To Kill a Mockingbird."_

She'd found the 1962' version on TV one Sunday afternoon, while her father went golfing with his friends from work and the girls napped in the bedroom. Their nap time was every day between four thirty and five thirty except Saturdays and Sundays.

Audrey was somewhere in the house.

Nesta watched thoughtfully as Scout and Jem chatted, her eyes squinting slightly and her brows furrowed; she was wearing a simple, plain summer dress, one of the last things she'd bought with her savings, with her brown golden hair in a braid on either side of her head.

She'd learned to do her sisters' hair only as a way to pass the time, using the acquired skill for herself when she was bored.

“What are you doing, child?” her mother asked, entering the room. She had a cup in her hand and was staring at her as if she was the plague, the girl only left her eyes on Audrey for a moment before returning her full attention to the television.

“Watching a movie.”

“Why aren't you watching your sisters?”

“Nap time.”

She kept her eyes on the screen at all times.

“You're always watching that movie, why don't you watch cartoons like a normal girl?”

Nesta bit her tongue to keep from answering her mother rudely.

Why was she suddenly caring about what she saw on TV? Wasn't as if the woman was aware of the things her daughters did during the week, ever.

“I like Atticus' character.”

“Which one is that?”

Nesta eyed her mother.

A black chiffon dress clung to Audrey's delicate skin, her hair perfectly pulled back in a high ponytail, and a fairly massive amount of makeup on her face.

“The father. He's a lawyer.”

Audrey looked at her as if she was scanning every inch of the girl.

“Watch the Care Bears or something like that.” And she walked away.

* * *

_2010_

The Grace Ave apartment was a mess for the first time since the woman had moved in there the year before. Baby formula jars piled on the kitchen counter, a collection of dishes in the sink and several blankets scattered around the living room; life had gotten out of control there in just a week.

And Nesta Archeron had no idea about how to get the car that had suddenly spun out of control back on track.

Atticus at least was a - within expectations - quiet baby. The little hair on his head was the same auburn to blond color that all the Archeron sisters had; and curious blue eyes began to follow her around more as time progressed.

Nesta had double-checked all the papers pertaining to the child. Audrey had left her what she would need for any procedures that suddenly came up, from birth certificate to the card with the vaccines he already had in.

Even if Nesta had what she needed, however, she was hardly qualified to have a child. Being a caregiver was something really hard, and she knew in her bones that it was going to break her in little pieces.

She'd had to work from home, unsure how to explain to Helion that she suddenly had to take care of Atticus, like the baby just pop in her life two seconds ago and was still trying to make up her mind to the idea. The man didn't seem to be angry that she was taking a few days off, God knew she hardly ever took days off at all.

“All right, I don't want bath time and you don't either, shall we make this easier and you just stay put?” 

Nesta was bent over the tub. She had bought a small baby bathtub online, after researching online and realizing she didn't want to be accused of accidental infanticide.

For seven whole days she had maintained an almost cautious routine, researching online, buying what she needed and working as much as she could in the moments Atticus decided to sleep. But the child seemed to become attached to her and it made it even more complicated because if Nesta disappeared from his sight he would burst into tears.

He looked at her for a moment as if he understood what she was saying.

“Look, there is a ducky, don't you like ducks?” She moved the toy in the water in front of the baby. “Elain loved them, one Halloween she dressed up as Daffy Duck because it was her favorite Looney Tune.”

Nesta had joined in by dressing Feyre as Tweety and then choosing to be Speedy Gonzalez herself.

Atticus babbled.

"Bah bah" she replied, running her fingers through his hair very gently so as not to touch his head too much.

She hurried to put a diaper on him as soon as bath time was over, she'd made the mistake on the first day of taking more than a second to change one diaper for another and he had taken the advantage to pee on her.

Tying her hair into a tousled bun after leaving Atticus -already changed-in the moses basket with a teether.

Nesta checked her cell phone to realize she had several texts from Elain, one from Feyre, and a few from Helion.

She opened the one from her younger sister first: 

**_Lainie s worrd, text bck_ **.

She wanted to cry for Feyre’s orthography.

 **I was busy** , Nesta simply texted and sent it. She hadn't dared to call and have them listen to the baby in the background.

Elain's were a bit more constructed:

**_Nesta, are you okay?_ **

**_We had a big order for a wedding, you know who's getting married? Jenny Fraiser._ **

**_Weren't you two in high school together?_ **

**_Tell me when I can call you._ **

**_Love u <3._ **

Sighing, she rubbed her cheek in an attempt to comfort herself. **I'm going to be stuck at work until late, I'll call you as soon as I can.**

Nesta was a coward after all.

She had weighed over and over again to go to San Francisco and tell her sisters what happened; but to do so would mean she would also have to tell them that she had kept hidden from them the fact that her mother showed up occasionally.

And perhaps Elain would understand her if she told them that she only wanted to take care of them, but Feyre would not. Her younger sister had been resentful enough of her since the instant Nesta decided to leave them with their father to attend college.

She may have put herself in that situation with all the decisions made in her life.

Nesta Archeron had never learned how to ask for help. She knew it was because she'd been a caregiver too long and from a very young age, because no one had given her the time to be a child herself.

For her, asking for help was a weakness.

Wasn't that what her mother had taught her?

Time and time again Nesta had been taught that she needed to get her claws and teeth out if she wanted to survive in the rough world.

Helion's text alarmed her:

**_Worried, I'm on my way to your apartment._ **

“Shit" Nesta felt panic crawling over every inch of her skin, making her suddenly defensive as she looked at the mess in the place. “Shit, shit, shit.”

She looked at Atticus, who was just babbling incomprehensibly and staring at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Sorry, you can't say that.”

Maybe Helion would know what to do, he had helped her before, he had reached out to her at the worst time, he had seen her broken and he had also given her an important place in his buffet and trusted her.

Nesta looked at herself in the mirror hanging in the hallway; noting how gaunt she looked after a week of sleeping less than usual, purple circles adorned her face and her skin was pale. The small freckles that had always been cute seemed to show up more than usual.

As the doorbell rang she knew there was no turning back and that whatever she decided to do, she must do it right then and there.

Considering the plan of action as quickly as possible, Nesta began to think about her options: A) She could not answer the door and pretend she was not at home. B) She could answer and let Helion help her find a solution. C) She could give the child to social services and return to her normal life.

The last option had been the one that had been on her mind the most during those seven days, but she didn't have the heart to walk away from him. 

“It’s open.” she said, answering the doorbell and pressing the doorman's button intended to open the apartment building's door.

Nesta approached Atticus in the bassinet again with a baby bottle in her hand. When Helion came upstairs and knocked on the door, she let the baby drink on his own -something he could do with minimal difficulty- and went to open it for him.

"Are you dying?" Helion asked as soon as she appeared in his field of vision, this made Nesta roll her eyes.

“If I'm asking for days off is it because I'm dying?”

“That or you'd be visiting your sisters, but you're here.”

“I'm here, solving problems.”

Then the man came in.

Helion Day definitely was someone everyone would enjoy having as a boss; even though he was in his late forties he remained looking young, with barely any wrinkles on his dark skin, his amber eyes as cheerful as ever.

It wasn't long until he noticed the baby laying in the bassinet atop the coffee table.

“Please tell me that you didn't have a toddler.”

“He is my brother," said Nesta. “ half-brother, my mother showed up and dumped him here a week ago.”

Helion stared at her for a really long moment. “What are you going to do?” 

“That's just exactly what I'm trying to think of..." Nesta said. There was no one she trusted more than Helion. “I mean, I can't raise a baby, it's only been a week and I feel like I'm going to go crazy at any moment. I love my job, and raising a child is expensive not to work.”

It was hard. Each day that passed she had felt that tightness in her chest, the urge to curl up and cry.

The man sat on the couch, patting his side for her to join him. There were times when Nesta wished Helion was her father, since he had certainly behaved like one to her during those five years.

He looked taken aback for a moment, probably thinking about what he can say next.

“Didn't you have the money from...?”

“No. I put it in Feyre's account to pay for her college, supposedly an anonymous donor," she rubbed her eyes with her palm. “It's not just the money, it's everything. I... the last two girls that I raised think I'm a heartless bitch. I'm not motherly, I can't handle it.”

“Your mother might come back.”

“I dunno if I want her to have him, either.”

She had thought about it, repeatedly. Seen Atticus stir and cry at the loud noises, a sign that he probably hadn't been in the best of environments during those four months. Nesta had known first-hand what a drunken, unloving mother was like, but she didn't know what a drug-addicted, unloving mother to only a baby would be like.

Sitting by and watching him get ripped apart didn't sound good to her, how would she sleep at night if she decided to let him go when the time came?

The law was on her side and she knew it. She knew that version of Audrey Archeron well enough to know that the woman would never pass a doping test even on one of her best days.

“This is not an easy decision, sunshine.”

“Don't call me that" she scowled, rocking Atticus' bassinet a bit.

“It’s not an easy decision, miss” he corrected himself, “You could ask your sisters for help though, maybe you three could figure out what's best. You know that by leaving him to you she is showing consent to your being his legal guardian, you can request it from a judge and she's probably going to be out of court so they will give it to you quickly.”

“I never told Elain and Feyre about mom coming over once in a while. I... I didn't know how to do it, she never asked about them or about how they were doing, she only cared about the money. Didn't even acknowledge me sometimes.”

Helion only seemed to think for a moment, and then stroked her head with an affectionate gesture.

“These things are always known, Nesta. This might be a chance for you to come clean with your sisters, they'll help you if you ask them, you know you have one of those faces that people will do anything for" he said, that last part with an obvious joking tone that made Nesta smile after several days.

“Fuck off, Helion.”

He grinned and patted her cheek slowly.

“Tell me now, how is this boy's name and why does he look like your long lost twin?”

“His hair is a bit blonder than mine in the sun," she said, she'd discovered that on the second day when she'd gone to work on the balcony with the boy. "His name is Atticus Archeron."

“Very nice. Double A he shall be.”

Nesta rolled her eyes.

**-o-**

Nesta put on her best outfit to go to the office the next day; the pale pink one consisting of a pair of pants and a blazer of that color, with a white shirt and white closed heels.

Helion had sent her a text in the evening, shortly after they said goodbye, saying that he had come up with an idea and had an offer for her. Nesta put blind trust in the man and didn't ask too many questions about it, she simply followed the quiet routine she had been using with Atticus and got ready for work.

Nesta dressed him carefully in a long overall and a beanie while he played with the elephant teether, it seems that his teeth had started to bother him which was normal according to the research Nesta had done during those days.

A lot of it had been research based on TV shows, in fact she was sure she was capable of doing perfect market research on it and she hadn't even studied for that.

The one thing that did prove to be a challenge was the baby carrier that had been sitting in her mother's purse, which was convenient because there was no way she was going back and forth with the baby carrier -which led her to realize that she would have to buy a stroller-. It wasn't as if Atticus was heavy as he probably weighed less than two hundred and thirty ounces. 

Putting the car seat in was easier than she had expected, although the baby didn't seem to like being taken out of the baby carrier and left in the back, so the whole car ride to the office she had to keep talking to him to reassure him that she was right there.

Helion was already waiting for her at the door, and as soon as he saw her parked in her specific spot he walked over to her.

“You look lovely today, my dear.”

“If any of your ants say anything to me I will beat them up, I hope you warned them." said Nesta.

Everybody at the buffet knew her, after all she was the Ice Queen. Popping up with a baby was going to destroy that facade of hers like if she was soft, so Nesta was going to hold Atticus against her and be as tough as ever.

“I'm laying money on it, I turned on all the security cameras just in case. There's no important meeting, none of your clients are in the building, and I think anyone would be afraid to tell you anything after a whole week.”

“I like to know I still got my style.”

“You've had the same style since you were 21, Nesta. I'm nearly twice your age and I've never had a more frightening interview than yours.”

That day Helion had looked at her as if she was the most amusing puzzle he'd ever encountered.

Nearly five years after that it was clear he had managed to solve most of the riddle; he didn't know the whole truth, he wasn't pressuring Nesta to spill it either, but on the worst night of her life he had been that man who had taken her to the hospital and had never wanted anything from her but to see her stand up.

“So?” Nesta asked. “What's the offer about?”

At least a dozen eyes were on them.

She had the baby carrier firmly clutched to her back, with the child half asleep in place with his head against Nesta's chest.

“We need to go to the conference room. I mentioned you to a good friend of mine, and like any smart man he's interested to hear what you can do in action.”

“A friend of yours?”

“We both went to Stanford, he returned to his hometown and took over his father's company. Obviously we get along well because of the distance, we never cross paths in the courtroom and neither do our lawyers, making everything simpler.”

“And does your buddy have a name or is it a mystery?”

“Tarquin Summers. He has a buffet in San Francisco.”


	4. Love comes in baby wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atticus likes to tug Nesta's hair.  
> Feyre needs more yellow oil, and meet and important client.

_ 1994 _

Nesta Archeron awoke disoriented, brown hair ruffled and plastered to the back of her neck because of the summer heat. Sitting up she looked around the room urgently, sensing something out of place; the night light remained on, casting delicate shadows on the pink walls.

A precious room that had seen them grow up, secret hiding places behind furniture or spaces inaccessible to their parents' eyes where they three had drawn silhouettes and spelled out their names.

Every time Nesta thought of a fortress - a castle worthy of fairy tales where princesses existed - she thought about that room.

Elain was in bed under hers since they shared a bunk bed, the girl was sleeping entangled in a sheet and making little noises as if she were talking slowly in her sleep. And then Nesta saw that the bed on the other side of the room, her four-year-old sister's, was empty.

She knew Feyre had been there due to the messy sheets and the stuffed deer next to the pillow. Nesta herself had put her sister down to bed and had waited until the girl was out of play-completely asleep-before climbing into her own space and drifting off to sleep.

The blood pulsed in her veins urgently, like a song asking her to hurry with her invisible sword and rescue the stolen princess while she slept. Feyre, who used to believe that a monster lived in her closet and used to draw versions of the thing -her official nickname- as different terrifying versions of doodles.

Scrawls with golden brown hair and grayish blue eyes. Sometimes they were bright-eyed wolves, which Nesta hung in the refrigerator for days. 

She hurried down from the bed, her feet moving quickly all the way out of the room the three sisters shared. The hallway light was usually left on just in case any of them had to go to the bathroom, so Nesta rushed there first before having to go down to the 1st floor; usually Feyre woke her or Elain when she had to go to the bathroom, perhaps they had been too sleepy.

The main floor was quiet but seeing the kitchen light on, the door between one room and another ajar, Nesta went straight in there. Perhaps her mother had suddenly come back to reality at last, and would return to making her lunch, or hugging her, or looking at them as if they were the whole world to her.

Perhaps that was what Nesta had been longing desperately to get.

Realness however came to her more than it did to the woman sitting there; Audrey Archeron still perfectly coiffed and groomed. 

A smile on her lips, cynical, a mask of indifference that made Nesta want to scream at the woman to come back from that hollow somewhere in the back of her mind.

The girl simply watched the scene for a moment standing in the doorway, her heart pounding against her ears in an erratic, desperate melody. And then for the first time in her life Nesta was terrified, genuine panic creeping up her chest and wrapping itself around her head to send her to the ground, to suck every ounce of air out of her lungs.

Feyre was passed out on the table, the baby bottle she still liked to use half-drunk with her mother's alcohol in it, and the woman was simply running her fingers over an old newspaper while mumbling something Nesta failed to catch.

She saw red for the first time in her life right then and there, patches of that color crawling down the sides of her eyes as she moved straight to Feyre with her hands shaking.

She took the girl in her arms with a little difficulty, able to let out the breath she had been holding as she saw that Feyre was breathing calmly. Golden brown hair reached Feyre's chin and brushed her childish neck.

Nesta held back tears of anger and frustration, as she walked up the stairs and avoided giving even one last glance at her mother seated in the kitchen.

She would throw away that bottle Feyre loved so much the next morning, erasing every trace of the memory.

On that night too, for the first time in her life, Nesta Archeron locked the castle door that kept her little sisters safe from the dragons.

* * *

_ 2010 _

Nearly two weeks after she had spoken by video call with Tarquin and Helion, things were slowly settling down in Nesta Archeron's life. 

She had been offered an opportunity she couldn't turn down: to act as an outside consultant for Helion - to whom in fact she owed so much that she would do it for free if he asked- and get a transfer to San Francisco to work at Tarquin's firm. 

It was the best thing to do, she knew, not for her specifically, but for Atticus. Nesta had been right about one thing during her talk with Helion, she couldn't raise a child.

However the woman was going to do it until she summoned up the courage to tell the truth.  _ One more week _ , she told herself,  _ when everything is settled _ .

It was a bit like if she could be solving a complicated puzzle, each piece starting to fit together after a long time.

And Nesta found that, beneath the layer of resentment at the sudden changes and the shame of not telling her sisters, a part of her was falling deeply for the baby.

A feeling similar to the one she had experienced while growing up and caring for Feyre and Elain. Looking at him, a tug at her heart that made her want to claw out anyone, that made Nesta want to rip her own mother's head off for abandoning a baby.

How could anyone not love him? 

Atticus was about to be five months old in just a few days and was seeming a little more active all the time, enjoying the car and stroller rides a whole lot more than the first few times. He was a beautiful baby, of course, with a snub little nose, chubby fingers grasping whatever was within reach.

Nesta had been efficient in moving to San Francisco. She had packed only the essentials to fit in her car, leaving the rest of the stuff in her apartment for Helion to ship on his own.

The Archeron girl had gotten a nice apartment near the firm's building, two bedrooms and an open concept in the kitchen-living room. It was a nice place, but seeing everything so empty made Nesta only feel like she had taken steps backwards; she was regretting that she hadn't brought with her some of the Feyre paintings that were kept in storage.

She got out of bed. 

Her things had arrived three days ago, and the only thing that was settled was the baby stuff. Not to mention that the list stuck on the refrigerator kept getting longer as Nesta thought about what things she still needed to buy.

"All right, that's it," she took the baby bottle, pouring some of the contents onto her wrist to check the temperature. "There you go, Atti."

She lifted him from his place in the crib - the last of her acquisitions - and placed the bottle in his mouth. Atticus used to grasp the object but he would get tired after a while and if Nesta didn't feed him he would just lie moaning for a while with the bottle next to him.

It was around seven o'clock in the morning and it was the last day she would spend in the apartment before she started looking at daycare centers for Atticus.

Being Sunday though, she had decided it was time to give the baby a walk in the park and face the fact that she was home again, plus the air, she knew firsthand, would help clear her head. 

Grabbing all she needed before heading out. The idea really was simple, drive to the park, read for a while while Atticus used his toys or slept-whichever came first-and then head to the store to stock the pantry.

However the dilemma started the second she wanted to move to the back to get the baby stroller out and, when Atticus lost sight of her, he broke into his worst cry yet.

"Atti, shh."

The boy didn't care and continued to cry, while she struggled to open the stroller, which in itself was damn heavy.

Nesta was good under pressure under normal circumstances, not when the screamer was her half-brother as the crying was so piteous that she couldn't hold it in long enough.

Leaving the stroller locked in the trunk, she moved to the passenger side so she could get the baby out of the seat, who stopped crying as soon as she stroked his cheek and removed the seatbelt.

Well, she could open the stroller with one hand.

"I can't believe you're crying like that, two minutes, Atticus," she chuckled softly, between her teeth, getting a babble from the baby and a long stare. "We're gonna figure out how to do this, kid, without crying.

_ God, my only talking partner is a baby, I should get in touch with Clare _ , Nesta thought to herself.

She rested him on her shoulder slowly, Atticus' hands touched her cheek for a second and then automatically tangled in Nesta's hair. And tugged on it.

"I thought we talked about that," she hissed, trying to get him to let go of the handful of hair he was trying to stuff in his mouth.

Nesta gave up trying, realizing that Atticus definitely wasn't going to listen to her, and that it wasn't worth wasting any more time.

She stood for a moment watching the trunk, maybe she could leave the damn trolley there and just go with Atticus in her arms to the grass. He could be ok with that and she knew it.

Nesta carefully moved the cart all the way out. Maybe if she pushed the top while stepping on the little barrel at the bottom then-

"Bah, dah."

"I'm glad you're amused by my frustration" she snarled.

"Do you need help?" Nesta nearly jumped in her spot like a cat, setting her back straight and raising her chin as her free hand flew to hold Atticus's head in place. 

It was a man, which she might well have guessed from the deep voice. He was at least two heads taller than her-she couldn't look over his shoulder unless she stood on her tiptoes-and he was definitely good-looking. 

But what caught Nesta's interest wasn't the black hair or his hazel eyes, it turned out to be the San Francisco Fire Department crest on his blue T-shirt. Having her eyes roam the muscles in his arm for a second was a bonus of seeing the shield all alone.

"Excuse me?" she asked, taking a second to breathe. "I guess I've got it under control."

Then Atticus decided to roughly tug her hair, making her let out a whimper and move the boy away from her hair with difficulty.

“Well, he disagrees, sweetheart.”

“Ungrateful creature” Nesta deadpanned, ignoring the pet name given to her.

The stranger watched her with a smirk on his lips and she almost wanted to frown at that. He certainly wasn't the type of man she was used to, the shadow of several days unshaven running along his jawline as his eyes seemed to take a moment to scan Nesta before turning to the structure at her feet.

“How do you open it?”

“Just..." she lifted her chin, glancing directly at him, "you have to support it, unlock it, and lift the bars to the side at the same time, and lock them afterwards" she instructed.

She hoped Atticus became more patient in the future, because she was never going to lift him again before putting the structure back together again on her own. Perhaps she should wait until he was asleep next time, or try to get him to grab the pacifier and not spit it out like the last few times.

"Right, how hard can it be?" the man said.

It took her a half hour to succeed the first time, but she wasn't going to tell a stranger that.

She rocked Atticus with her arm, shifting his position, when the boy wanted to grab her hair again.

"How old is he?"

"Almost five months old. "

One thing she definitely didn't like about baby-sitting was that people were inclined to make small talk with her, and Nesta had never been particularly sociable.

"Having a bad day? Hmm?.

"He's just sleepy, all babies are sleepy"

The man took a moment to reply, removing the lock that joined one part from the other and practically kneeling on the floor so he could put it together.

"Actually, I meant you, difficult child, eh?”

Nesta watched him for a moment, while he finished lifting the stroller up and locking it. 

"Thank you" Nesta clipped.

"Anything for a pretty lady" the man brushed his hands against the edge of his shirt before glancing at his watch and giving a curse, and after giving her a wink he walked away.

Nesta looked at Atticus who was amusingly sucking his thumb.

"Weird."

**-o-**

Feyre Archeron started the morning running from the bus stop to the university. The early November wind, usually due to the water around the city of San Francisco, was hitting her cheeks and sending her hair flying as the girl tried to hold on to her bag as tightly as she could.

Two minutes away from being late for her European and American Architecture class and, knowing full well how she would be scolded by Mrs. Norris, she was seriously thinking about being swallowed up by the earth before she could set foot in the classroom. 

The Academy of Art University was a dream come true at that point in her life, particularly after the rough years she had faced. 

Feyre didn't even want to dwell on that as she made her way through the halls to the classroom where her class was being held; the wrap skirt Elain had forced her to wear for the lunch meeting she would be having was completely uncomfortable and Feyre wanted to get back into her sweatpants. Shoving open the doors she entered right on schedule but still received a few vague glances from the rest of her classmates, and ignoring the eyes on her she simply headed back to her usual spot.

Having a three hour block before she had to go to the meeting with what was probably the biggest opportunity of her entire life. 

Five days earlier a man -owner of a few art galleries, well known according to google- had spoken to her via private message on her Etsy profile, sending her all the necessary details for Feyre to stalk him, and complimenting her paintings. 

Feyre had agreed to have them talk about it at a meeting because she wasn't going to refuse to eat for free at a nice restaurant and be told how much they liked her art. 

Even Rhys had said it was a very good opportunity, even if he persisted in insisting that he might eventually take an interest in art if she needed it; but Feyre didn't want her friend's solidarity (and desire to waste), she wanted an opportunity earned by her effort.

By noon she was practically running to the restaurant a few blocks away. Feyre gave the front lady her name, just like the man had told her over the message, and as she walked behind her she sent Elain her location in real time.

Two minutes had been taken after class to stop by the bathroom and check to make sure everything was in place, remembering Nesta and the years when her older sister had told her that appearance was everything.

A man was already seated at the table and Feyre had to take a moment to plan what she was going to say. It wasn't that she couldn't handle a hot guy -she was friends with three of them, and had been in a non-relationship with Isaac for years- but that she was dependent on having to make a good impression was another matter.

He was blond, long hair brushing broad but stylish shoulders. 

"Rey Darling?" he asked, to which she nodded. It was her artistic name, the one she had on her paintings and made her have privacy somehow.

"It's Fay-ruh, actually, Rey is my artistic name."

She forced herself to emphasize the pronunciation.

"Tamlin Springer" he introduced himself, holding out his hand to indicate for her to sit down. "I took the freedom to order wine, Syrah, I assure you, you're going to like it.

"No problem" Morrigan -her friend- had practically made her drink all kinds of wine and get used to it. "How did you find my job? Because of the blog?"

Tamlin shook his head, pouring wine into Feyre's glass.

“One of my friends, my accountant, showed it to me, I couldn't tell you exactly how he found you, but he bought several of your paintings a few months ago and when I mentioned to him that I wanted to open a gallery in San Francisco he sent me your page.”

Well, luck was smiling on Feyre then.

“Thank you" she murmured, as soon as the glass was within inches of her. "I'm glad you liked them, then, I have some unpublished pieces. What are you looking to show in the gallery?"

She felt her phone vibrate and glanced at the message out of the corner of her eye from under the table, replying seconds later.

**_(Reese 's): Elain sent me the address, what time does the meeting end?_ **

**I guess at dessert, I'll let you know when we're about to leave.**

**_(Reese 's): Do you want me to send Azriel to keep an eye on him?_ **

**LOL nope.**

“A little bit of everything actually, it would be ten artists. I thought each one should have their own space. What style do you usually do?

“Realism, hyperrealism, I have some impressionistic ones and I have some abstract ones too.

“I'd love to see the rest of your work then, my lawyer can fax you the contract I thought of and you can see the clauses.

“Perfect, I can have my lawyer look it over as soon as you send it to me.

Yes, if Nesta would deign to pick up the phone and hear that she was getting the chance of her life. For only a second she wondered what her older sister was doing.

Work, probably.

The whole rest of lunch was smooth, Tamlin was really nice on an initial impression, and even offered to give her a ride back to the university if she needed it; by that point however Feyre had already texted her friend to come pick her up.

In her defense, Feyre wasn't using Rhysand as her chauffeur, she was using Rhys's chauffeur as her driver. 

Bryaxis was a delight, and he liked to gossip almost as much as Mor so it was always fun to know everything that went on around her friends. To get a free ride was a bonus added to all the rest of that.

Feyre waved goodbye to Tamlin at the door as soon as she saw the black Porsche waiting for her. They had exchanged phone numbers so they could square a new day for him to go see the paintings Feyre had never posted on Etsy.

"Hi Bry, hi Rhys," she said as soon as she got in the passenger seat, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek.

He was wearing his black hair shorter than usual, so Feyre guessed he'd been to the stylist that morning. 

“Was the blond guy the investor?”

“Yep, Tamlin Springer, he owns several galleries around the country.”

“Mmmm....”

"Don't you think that's cool? I just have to persuade the devil to read the deal for me.”

"You can borrow my lawyer" said Rhys, his arm draped over Feyre's shoulders by the time the car started.

Rhysand was probably the elder Archeron's number one hater, even if they had never met in person yet.

But he had heard wonders in court and knew that the nickname given by Feyre was not far from the truth. Nesta had never lost a case, even if many attributed that they were "simple" and "obvious" cases, Rhysand knew enough about law to know that he would hire her in the blink of an eye if he was accused of anything.

While it was well known that Nesta Archeron never had a defense case, she was clearly one of those who would go for the bad guy's jugular. And disregarding the phrase " _ a good defense is the best attack _ " the woman bled her enemies dry with her statements in court and they were usually defenseless after that.

"No, listen, it is like in The devil wears Prada we are all the assistant, even you, and Nesta is Miranda Priestly. No one can do the job better than her."

"Feyre Darling, you're so strange."

"Yes, Dad tells me that a lot." 

"Talking of which, how's your father?" 

"Possibly playing backgammon with Mr Presley, I couldn't get to see him these days but Lainie went yesterday. She said he seemed kind of out of his mind."

They left the subject of the conversation there. 

"All right. Shall we go to the flower shop? "

"Actually, I have to make a stop for supplies, I'm out of 505 yellow oil paint."

"Well, that's a tragedy. What color could you paint a canary in if not yellow?"

Feyre punched him in the arm but laughed.


	5. Memories

_ 1997 _

Henry Archeron was definitely drunk. The chocolate hair ragged after not having been cut in several months, his eyes ruminating around the apartment living room, and exhaustion on every one of his features.

Two months.

The Archeron family's life had fallen apart in two months.

Nesta stared at her father from the doorway of the room which she and her sisters shared. The apartment they had been able to buy with the money, not even a close glimpse of the fortune the family had lost.

Two months had been enough time for their luck to abandon them completely, passing from a huge house full of memories to a lifeless apartment. And her father was still without response, stuck in a corner in front of the television, haunting the place.

“Henry" she said, calling out, nearly begging. But she had promised herself she would never beg anyone ever again, not after her mother hadn't returned, certainly not after every trace of the past seemed to have practically vanished into thin air.

Feyre and Elain were already asleep.

“Aren't you going to do anything?” she asked, not getting an answer.

She saw the half-empty bottle of vodka, the same glassy eyes in the man she'd seen a hundred times in Audrey.

He made no reply, he didn't even look in the direction of his eldest daughter.

And Nesta ceased to have hope in him.

* * *

_ 2010 _

Nesta Archeron began her Wednesday with a baby drooling on her cheek. Atticus and she had been lying in bed, a barrier of pillows on his side so he couldn't fall out.

She knew it wasn't really highly recommended for children to sleep with adults, but she was terrified of having him asleep in the crib and not being close enough or alert enough if he needed her. 

It was seven o'clock so she had only slept for four hours. Nesta's hand was still holding him but he had climbed enough that he could give slobbery kisses - or an imitation of that - to her.

“Morning" Nesta said, wiping her cheek with her sleeve. The baby let out a "bah bah" and gave her a huge smile. "Let's get up."

She took him in her arms to walk him to the living room, where she left him at the baby gym so he could entertain himself while she made the coffee and the baby bottle.

When Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star started to ring, Nesta had to muffle a whimper. She put the coffee pod in place and started the coffeemaker before heating the water and then putting the formula in his bottle.

She sat with him on the couch to feed him until he fell asleep, putting him down in the bassinet and drinking her coffee in record time to take advantage of Atticus' nap to take a bath. 

She had used Monday to completely set up the apartment and go over her finances. She was going to rent out her apartment in Los Angeles so as not to leave it totally abandoned, that was one of the decisions she had made.

Tuesday had been spent visiting different daycare centers, finally deciding on the one that had the best recommendations and was within budget. The nursery teachers seemed warm - much more so than Nesta herself - and had been delighted with Atticus.

So being Wednesday morning it was time to go drop him off and go to the office to meet Tarquin and all the rest of the people she would have to work with.

She missed Helion, and knew it wasn't going to be easy to just settle in anywhere. 

A five-minute shower was the most Nesta would get, so she refused to think about anything to do with LA and simply gave in to the warmth of the water.

The next two hours were like a blur for her, as Nesta set about gathering the necessary things for the baby, changing him and finally dropping him off at Sunnyside - the daycare center - before driving straight to Tarquin's law firm's building.

Nesta was well aware that her reputation preceded her, and she wasn't surprised when Tarquin himself was waiting for her at the front desk. Dark skin as if he'd been tanning until only minutes before, with almost white hair - she guessed it was dyed - and blue eyes like two headlights between the deep skin. Even though he was not younger than Helion, given that they had been classmates in college, he looked younger than his age.

“Nesta Archeron" he said, a vague smile on his lips. She put the mask back in place, that wall between her and the outside world that made her the person everyone respected or feared. Pushing away every memory creeping in.

“Tarquin Summer, it's a pleasure" Nesta said.

“Likewise. This is your ID" he handed it to her, "and I had them have your office ready so we can go right in.”

Nesta simply let him talk, Tarquin explained where each space was, from the firm's case file cabinet in particular, to the general library. By the time they reached the sixth floor he led her straight to a corner office, a space that must have been the size of her father's entire apartment, with an armchair, a coffee table, a desk, and several chairs. 

“We're going to let you and Amren share a secretary until you get yours.” 

Suddenly she froze.

“Amren?“

“Amren Di Angelo, she's one of the senior associates as well.”

For a moment Nesta was speechless, before raising her chin again in self-defense and letting the ice fill her eyes. A policy was in place, it wasn't like anyone else was going to know what had happened, Helion had promised her and he wouldn't let anyone find out if Nesta didn't want them to.

“Yes, I heard from her.”

“Most of our lawyers have a reputation. You'll find our dynamic isn't much different than the one you're used to.”

She nodded, not knowing what else to say.

In spite of whatever kind of reputation she herself had she didn't feel like biting. No, she felt like tracking Amren down and making sure she had kept her mouth shut after those nearly five years.

However, Amren and she weren't that different so Nesta simply gave her the benefit of the doubt until she could find her. Maybe she would simply tell their shared secretary that she wanted a meeting or something.

“Anyway, my office is on the eighth floor and you can message me if you have any questions. The secretary's name is Selene.”

“Thank you.”

Nesta just breathed a peaceful sigh as Tarquin left.

She was going to have to find a new psychologist as soon as possible.

She dropped her bag in her seat, taking out the books she had brought with her to put them in the bookcase. Having an almost uncanny memory and knowing it, and given that studying had been her lifeboat, she was capable of remembering a lot more of those books than the average person would remember.

Nesta could remember every day since the 7th of October of 1997 after all.

She let out a sigh, taking in the detail of every space in the room before her mind went into rumination. She knew what would happen if she did, the fact that Amren was so close would bring back all the memories in a whirlwind.

And she couldn't deal with the vivid memories she had.

The knock on the door made her turn her gaze there, finding a woman standing there. Tall, several inches taller than Nesta, with brown eyes that highlighted against platinum blonde hair and porcelain skin.

“Miss Archeron, I'm Selene Reddington and I'm going to be your assistant these days. My space is two doors down, just before Miss Di Angelo's office” practical and consistent, that caught Nesta's attention. “Do you need anything?”

“Nesta Archeron," she introduced herself, looking at her carefully and trying to read every subtle gesture. “I like my coffee with two spoons of cream, two spoons of sugar. And I would like an appointment with Miss Di Angelo as soon as she was available, today.”

Selene seemed to evaluate her for a second.

“Any preference in coffee shops?”

“Blue Bottle or Caffe Greco are my favorites. Any Italian will do the trick, it's been years since I've been in San Francisco.”

“Good. I'm going to make an appointment with Di Angelo at 3:15 before you have to leave. Anything else?”

“Yes, I need you to get me the paperwork to add someone to my health insurance and the change of address.”

“Noted. Mr. Summer left some cases for you to review, I left them in the third desk drawer. Lunch preferences?”

Well, she definitely liked this woman. Nesta looked for the aforementioned files as she replied to Selene

“Waldorf salad, lemonade with mint and ginger.”

“Perfect, I'll be at my desk if you need anything.” 

Nesta watched her leave, dark gray dress flying behind her and black heels clacking on the floor. The floor was quite busy, a few people going downstairs and upstairs or in and out of the offices.

She still had to find a way to tell Elain and Feyre about Atticus.

The cases Tarquin had selected were complicated, almost seeming like conspiracies against each other. A baseball player who wanted to sue an ex-girlfriend for uploading a video of them having sex, a man who wanted to sue a doctor for malpractice, and other cases that ranged from fraudulent employees, to disastrous marriages, to a father who had kidnapped his one-year-old daughter but kept sending the mother details about what the child was doing.

She wrote down in each case the process that would need to be done, making notes for laws, articles, and past cases on which they could be based. Ate lunch at one o'clock, receiving Selene's health insurance papers and filling them out; by three-fifteen she had each case resolved and being sent to Tarquin so he could review the solutions and could assign it to any other attorney.

"Archeron, I thought my office was going to be your first stop when you arrived," Amren said from behind her desk. “Are you better?”

She had to take a moment to push through the memories that floated up to her, one after the other, intertwining and squeezing her chest. The last time she had seen the woman in front of her had been a Friday and Amren had been wearing ruby earrings.

The woman didn't look like she had aged a day, with her chin-length black hair cut short and her silver eyes shining at her with something akin to mischief.

“Amren" said Nesta, pulling herself together, "I didn't know you worked at this firm.”

Amren had never told her, but Nesta wasn't going to reproach her for that, because then she'd give her a reason to call her crazy.

“I don't think I told you, it was a private job after all.”

“Then I hope everything stayed private as we had agreed, even from Tarquin.”

“Just you and me, and Helion of course. Although you came into the eye of the storm on your way back to San Francisco.”

“Yes, I didn't have much choice.”

Having fled San Francisco had been a desperate escape from the ghosts, not setting foot in the city since that year had been as well. Coming back was an attempt to find the family she remembered again and again, to make Atticus have Elain's warmth and Feyre's adventurous spirit.

“I imagined it.” 

“I just wanted to make it clear where we are. It's going to be a pleasure working together.”

And then Nesta left because she had to pick up Atticus from daycare.

**-o-o-**

“Cassian.”

The man looked up to see Morrigan, one of the emergency doctors and one of his close friends. She wore her blond hair tied up on top, and there was dried blood on her uniform jacket after the last call.

“Yes?”

“It's your turn to go grocery shopping before lessons. And Bruno was asking who's going to be at the weekend lessons.”

“It's Friday," he said. “I bought the food last Saturday.”

“Yes, it's your turn.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, watching her, but she just smiled at him. 

“Okay” fighting with Mor was a hopeless case and he knew it. The best he could do was go grocery shopping and hope she didn't take him as her errand boy again. 

“The list is in the common room.”

He finished tying his shoes and moved to close his locker door.

He'd had to go to the station to finish arranging the schedules for the next meetings, so he actually had time to get there and back before he had to go to Friday's friends' meeting. 

Mor looked at him.

“Am I going to have to wait for you today?” Cassian asked, getting a nod.

“I've still got the car in the garage and Rhys is picking up Feyre.”

“And Elain? “

Mor shrugged. “I guess Graysen, or Azriel.”

“Mmm... we should talk to Az.”

“I've already tried, and so has Feyre. Well, enough talk, I'm going to take your truck when you're in the shower if you're going to make us late. It's shots night at Denny's.”

“It's always shots night for you, Mor.” 

“I know.”

He slipped his keys and wallet into his pocket.

He walked through the station, waving to those on their shifts and out to the parking lot. He had the jeep in the parking lot that was one street away, because they used the official one for those on shift.

And then he came across something interesting, as soon as he stepped onto the street.

He saw her even from a distance.

The same woman he had come across almost a week before, the one with the baby, leaning against a car and looking toward the daycare center next to the station while holding a phone to her ear.

And she was probably fighting with someone, because she was in a defensive position and seemed to be throwing daggers with her eyes. When their gazes met, which Cassian might as well have been staring at her like an idiot without knowing it, the realization soon dawned on her.

And hell he needed to find out her name, because he was sure he hadn't seen any wedding band on her finger at all despite the baby she was going with.

Maybe if he chatted with her then-

“Following people is called stalking, and i don’t appreciate the attention" the woman blurted out, closing the cell phone and looking at him. Cassian hadn't even been aware that he'd walked straight up to her.

She was as gorgeous as he remembered, with golden brown hair combed delicately in a crown atop her head, and an office outfit of pants and shirt that were definitely a new acquired taste for Cassian.

Intimidating, even more than last time, and there was something slightly familiar.

“I could say the same thing, seeing as you're out of my station.”

“I'm out of the daycare” she snapped, her eyes flaming with something unfamiliar. He watched her cross her arms and lift her chin, as if about to strike if necessary.

“I'm sure I haven't seen you here before, sweetheart. It's fate, perhaps?”

“It seems more feasible to me that you're stalking me.”

She glanced at the time on her wristwatch and then at the nursery door to see a woman peeking out of it.

“I prefer the idea of fate. My name is Cassian.”

The woman looked at him, as if she was remembering something.

“And your name is?” he asked, hands buried in his pockets. He watched as she raised her chin and gave him a pursed-lip grimace.

“Well, I think you should let fate figure it out for you, Cassian. If you’ll permit me, they are waiting for me.”

And just like that she walked away, heading straight for the nursery and exchanging a few words with the woman at the door.

Well, he knew it wasn't going to be the last time he saw her.

**-o-o-o-**

By the time they arrived at Denny's that night, Cassian still couldn't completely forget about the blue-gray eyes and was barely able to keep up with Morrigan's chatter as she went on and on about the last of the girls who had come onto her radar.

The usual table of the group was in the corner, almost complete with their friends.

Amren, Varian, Rhys and Azriel were already drinking, probably waiting for the food.

“Wasn't Feyre coming with you, Rhys?” was the first thing Mor asked when they reached the table. He looked up at her, his almost violet eyes filled with a feeling that no one but Cassian and Azriel could read, absolute concern.

Cassian watched him frown, fingers clutching the glass in his hands.

“Fey called me before I went for her, she and Elain can't come because her sister came to the city and they needed to catch up or something" he said. “She sounded agitated or worried or I don't know. Should we go check on them?”

Azriel patted his shoulder gently.

“She's their sister, not a monster.”

“Besides, Nesta's not that bad, though I wouldn't bet against her," Varian said, getting all the looks. “Cresseida and she even get along, don't they, Amren?”

“She's not so bad.”

“Wait" Cassian said, "You know her?

Amren nodded, but it was Varian who answered, "She's working at the company, she had a recommendation from Helion Day, and Tarquin seems really happy to pick up a big one.”

“What a pity that being good at the job doesn't make you a good sister" Mor said, taking Azriel's glass and taking a good sip.

Cassian simply shrugged. “Easy, Rhys, Feyre can take care of herself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this is short, but on the next one we are going to see the Archeron's reactions! Thanks for all the comments and kudos, im having a lot of fun writing this.  
> This is probably going to be a long fic so be patient. <3


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